


Group Projects

by polemisti



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Canon Disabled Character, College, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Idiots in Love, Multi, Mutual Pining, POV Azriel (ACoTaR), Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cassian is a history buff, established azriel/cassian, finals are over so it's romanticize college hour, i spent more time thinking about their majors than I did writing the fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polemisti/pseuds/polemisti
Summary: “‘Scuse me,” Azriel looked up to find one of his classmates—Lucien, he thought the guy’s name was. “Is there any way I could join y’all’s group? My partner just texted me, apparently he dropped this class last week and just forgot to tell me—”“Don’t fucking tell me—” Cassian cut him off. “You were Tamlin’s partner, right?”-Or: Lucien joins Cass and Az on a group project and they IMMEDIATELY start pining over the poor guy.
Relationships: Azriel/Cassian (ACoTaR), Azriel/Cassian/Lucien Vanserra, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Comments: 45
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firebirdofscythia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firebirdofscythia/gifts).



“‘Scuse me,” Azriel looked up to find one of his classmates—Lucien, he thought the guy’s name was. “Is there any way I could join y’all’s group? My partner just texted me, apparently he dropped this class last week and just forgot to tell me—”

“Don’t fucking tell me—” Cassian cut him off. “You were Tamlin’s partner, right?”

“How—do you know him?” The man—yeah, his name was definitely Lucien. His ‘weird fact’ at the beginning of the semester was that one of his eyes was glass. Azriel tried to avoid figuring out which one it was while he looked at the man. 

“One of our friends dated him last year,” Azriel offered mildly. Azriel was glad Tamlin had dropped the class. After what Feyre had told them about the guy…

“Real piece of work,” Cassian finished. “Did the prof say we can work in groups of three? I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Uh, yeah, I asked him—he just told me ‘pick a pair and pray they say yes’. I know it’s kinda late in the semester—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cassian shrugged, “You seem smart. I don’t see how it would hurt having another member working on this fucking project.”

“I—thank you,” Lucien nodded, and it was definitely his right eye that was glass, it _had_ to be.

“It’s my left, actually,” Lucien said to Azriel, and the man had either read his mind or Azriel had said something out loud because—“I’d prove it, but I only take it out when I’m cleaning it or when I’m drunk.”

Cassian was blinking owlishly from beside Azriel.

“What the hell are we talking about?” he asked a moment later.

“Nothing,” Azriel said, and Cassian shrugged, standing from his seat.

“We’re allowed to leave, right?” Cassian asked, stretching and filling his bookbag. The lecture hall was half empty.

“Yeah, I think so,” Lucien said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sick. Do you have any more classes? We were gonna head back to the house. You’re free to come—we could probably hammer out the first draft like… tonight, if we spend the day on it.”

“This is my last class on Fridays. Where do you live?”

“Just off campus,” Azriel said. “It's a fifteen minute walk from here—north.”

“Awesome,” Lucien smiled. “I’m down if y’all are.”

* * *

“So, what are you majoring in?” Cassian asked Lucien when they were out of the building.

“IR.” _International Relations. Huh._ “And you?”

“Military History.”

“This class is right up your alley, then,” Lucien responded. Azriel cringed. He’d heard the rant Cassian was about to rant about half a dozen times already.

“You’d fucking _think_ so,” Cassian spat, kicking a rock, and _here we go_ . “The prof totes some great love of military history and then refuses to look at anything before the Napoleonic wars. I asked him about it, and he said they ‘weren’t his thing.’ Motherfucker, how do you look at the Roman invasion on the British Isles and have the _audacity_ to say it's ‘not your thing’. Fuck off with that shit.”

“He talked about the Scandinavian Crusades last week,” Lucien said.

“Yeah, in the context of World War Two!”

“Well,” Lucien pivoted to Azriel, “What are you majoring in?”

“International Security,” Azriel said, and that was the end of that conversation.

* * *

“You live on frat row?” Lucien asked 15 minutes later.

_“No,_ ” Cassian said, “We live _adjacent_ to frat row.”

“Ah,” Lucien said, disbelieving.

The house was… fine, in Azriel’s opinion. After that brief stint of homelessness in high school, before Cass and Rhys had found him, anything with a roof was fine for Az. Great, even. Rent was affordable enough, there were no RAs, and if any of them wanted to go to a party, there was usually one within a quarter mile.

“We’ll give you a tour,” Cassian said grinning, pulling his keys from his pocket.

Before he could unlock the door, it flung open. Azriel watched smoke billow out from the sitting room. Rhys coughed, waving smoke from his face as he stepped onto the porch.

“Feyre tried to make lunch,” he explained before anyone said anything.

Azriel tried his damndest to keep his smile to himself.

“Give it five minutes,” Rhys said with a smile. “Who’s this?”

“This is Lucien,” Azriel said. “He’s joining our group project.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lucien.” Rhys said with a nod, “I’m Rhys. My girlfriend Feyre is the one currently burning the house down. Amren is with Varian this week, and who the hell knows where Mor is these days, but I’m sure you’ll meet her at some point. What are you majoring in?”

“IR. You?”

“Business. But I’m not a douchey business major! I promise,” Rhys finished with a grin. “Okay, I think we can go back inside without developing black lung.”

“Please let me make dinner tonight,” Azriel pleaded. If he ate pasta or takeout one more time this week, he might mutiny.

* * *

Feyre was swearing like a sailor when they reached the kitchen.

“Az!” She yelled over the beeping fire alarm. “Help!”

Azriel turned to Cass and Lucien. “Give me 10 minutes.”

_Twenty_ minutes later, Azriel, Cass, and Lucien were sitting at the dining room table, laptops out. They quickly realized that Lucien was able to rework some of the work he had done with Tamlin, which cut off a couple hours, and the trio quickly fell into a quiet groove as they worked. Lucien made polite conversation throughout, asking the appropriate questions college students asked each other—questions like: “what made you choose your major?” “What if I approached this paragraph from an anthropological lens, do you think he’ll dock points?” “What did you get on essay one?” and “What on Earth do you mean ‘Rhys is technically a millionaire’?”

A few hours in, once the sun was low in the sky, Azriel turned to Cassian. Lucien had gone to the bathroom.

“You like him.”

Cassian scoffed. “Yeah, he’s smart. He listened to me rant about Caesar.”

“Idiot,” Azriel kicked him under the table. “You _like_ him.”

Cassian laughed, hearty and full. Azriel watched his face shift from amusement to consideration to—“Fuck. You’re right.”

Azriel chuckled.

“Well, I guess that makes two of us,” Cassian finished, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, two can play at this game, dumbass. You like him as much as I do. You laugh at his jokes.”

“They’re funny jokes,” Azriel said, half amused.

“Rhys makes ‘funny jokes’ and you don’t laugh at those.”

“Rhys doesn’t need anyone else boosting his ego,” Azriel countered, leaning back in his seat. He could argue this all day.

“And this guy does? Come on, you’re both doing your political science… thing. He’s smart, he’s funny. You like him too, asshole.”

“So now I’m into everyone who’s also pursuing political science?”

“Well he’s hot too, which helps.”

Azriel sighed. He… he was hot. But—well—

“Fuck you,” Az said finally.

Cassian was still laughing when Lucien returned from the bathroom.

“Something I said?” he said with a smile, sitting back down. “Oh, I was thinking—source… two? I think? I think we can use it in part two if we reformat it a bit.”

“Good plan!” Cass said a moment later, shooting a knowing look to Azriel when Lucien wasn't looking.

_Fuck you_ , Az mouthed.


	2. Chapter 2

“‘This was a very impressive and well put together first draft. I look forward to seeing your final.’” Lucien paused, flabbergasted. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit.” Cassian echoed.

Azriel didn’t repeat the sentiment, as much as he seemed to agree with it from where he sat, arms crossed.

“He  _ never  _ says shit like this.” Lucien said. “The TA told me we were ‘lucky if we got the thumbs up emoji.’” Lucien set the rubric down.

They were in Cassian and Azriel’s house. In the week, Lucien thought he had spent more time there than he had his own dorm. This project had eaten away the trio’s lives with frustrating efficiency.

“Hey!” A voice shouted from the kitchen. Mor, Lucien had learned. Rhys’ cousin, and a marketing major. “Boys! Fuck off. Feyre and I are hosting a coochie-board night tonight and we need the dining room!”

“Fuck off Mor!” Cassian said, though he closed his laptop and started stacking his papers.

“I’m sorry,” Lucien asked a moment later, a tinge embarrassed. “What is a… ‘coochie-board’?”

“Charcuterie board,” Azriel and Cassian responded in sync.

“Girl thing. Cheese and shit.” Cassian added.

“Ah.”

“Come on,” Cassian gestured. “You can come to Az and I’s room.”

_ There is _ , Lucien realized a few moments later, standing on the threshold of the bedroom, _ only one bed in Cassian and Azriel’s room. _

Lucien was polite. He was raised by a senator and the daughter of another senator. He had manners. He didn’t mention it.

And he wasn’t upset! This made things much easier. Having a crush on two men who were best friends was much worse than having a crush on two men who were  _ dating _ . At least in the second scenario, he had  _ absolutely  _ no chance, and really couldn’t fuck anything up. This was fine!  _ Just act normal! _

So he did! He acted very normal! For the next three hours!

* * *

“Fuckkkkkkkkkk,” he groaned into the phone once he was back at his dorm.

“What?” Alis said dryly. Lucien heard her boys squealing in the background of the video call.

“Those guys?” Lucien said.

“The two that were dating?”

“Yeah, them—how the hell did  _ you  _ know they were dating before I did?”

“I’m smarter than you.” Alis said dryly.

Oti jumped into frame. “Yeah!” he yelled. “Alis is smarter than you!”

“Good afternoon, Oti!”

“Good afternoon Uncle Lucy!” Oti said before skipping off.

“Seriously, Alis, how did you know?” Lucien asked when Oti was gone.

“I’m friends with Feyre on Snapchat. We were friends before I dropped out. She posted a pic of some guys named ‘Az’ and ‘Cass’ cuddling on her private story one time. Figured they were the same guys. They were drunk. It was a cute photo.”

Alis dropped out last year after her sister had passed and she began fostering her nephews. She swore she was going to re-enroll soon. Luicen begged her to—online classes, night classes,  _ anything _ .

“When did she post it?”

“Last year.”

“Last  _ year?  _ I’ve been complaining about this for a week, and you didn’t say anything.”

“It was funny to watch you try and pick one,” Alis shrugged.

“I wish I could throw something at you right now,” Lucien said.

“I know,” Alis grinned back.

“What am I gonna  _ do _ ?” He asked a moment later, groaning.

“Threesome?” Alis offered.

“I’m hanging up on you.”

* * *

Twenty minutes after Lucien left the house, Cassian and Azriel snuck back downstairs in search of ‘coochie-board leftovers’. Rhys had beat them to it, and was picking away at one of the boards on the dining room table.

“Where are Feyre and Mor?”

“They got wine drunk with Amren and passed out in Mor’s room,” Rhys explained while trying to pick out a… tiny pickle?

“What the fuck is that?” Cassian asked.

“It’s a cornichon. Never was a fan,” Rhys said, taking a bite from one, making a face, and spitting it back into a napkin.

“Lemme try,” Cassian said, picking up one for himself. “Oh, God, those suck  _ ass _ .”

“I hate both of you,” Azriel said dryly from beside Cassian.

* * *

Five minutes later, after they had each loaded themselves a plate from the remnants of the coochie boards and poured themselves glasses from the unpoured wine, Rhys shot the pair a look.

“What?” Cassian asked. He looked to Azriel beside him, who was staring very intently at a cube of sharp cheddar on his plate.

“You know what,” Rhys said, pulling the cube off of Azriel’s plate and eating it.

“I’m afraid we don’t,” Azriel said calmly, looking up at Rhys. Cassian forgot sometimes how good of a liar he was—he did it so rarely. Still, if Azriel was a natural liar, Rhys was a natural lie detector.

“Don’t play dumb,” he said, swirling his wine glass and taking a sip.  _ Dramatic bastard, _ Cassian thought. “You two and this new guy— _ Lucien _ . You ever gonna tell us what’s going on with him?”

“He’s doing a group project with us,” Cassian said, kicking Rhys under the table. “Stop making everything weird.”

_ “I’m _ making it weird?” Rhys asked incredulously. “You three can’t go ten minutes without one of you staring longing at the other two. You just brought him into your  _ room _ . I’m pretty sure Feyre  _ still  _ hasn’t seen y’all’s room.”

“Mor kicked us out of the dining room,” Azriel explained calmly.

“Yeah,” Rhys agreed. “She kicked you out because the mindless pining got old three days ago.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian interjected. “Look—Az and I talked about this—we think he’s hot and smart. That’s all there is to it. We’re not ‘mindlessly pining’ you fucking idiot.”

“Oh, it's not just you two!” Rhys said, grinning over his plate of cheese. “Lucien’s got it as bad you idiots. He walked out of here today like a dejected puppy. I think it took him this long to realize that you two were an item.”

“Did you forget to tell him?” Az said mildly.

“Me? We’re both in this relationship  _ together _ , asshole.”

“Yeah,” Az shrugged, “But you’re our PR person. I work behind the scenes.”

“Ew,” Rhys said after a moment. “Was that an innuendo?”

“No,” Azriel said at the same time that Cassian said “Definitely.”

“Gross.” Rhys decided.

_ “Gross?” _ Cassian parroted incredulously. “We can talk about the stains you and Feyre left on the couch if we want to talk about ‘gross.’”

“The  _ point _ is,” Rhys said, “If you three are going to pine for the rest of the semester, do it at a cafe or y’all’s bedroom or something. The rest of us miss the dining room.”

“Yeah,  _ whatever _ ,” Cassian said, trying another cornichon.  _ “Fuck,  _ they really aren’t any better the second time.”

* * *

“Your breath smells like pickles,” Azriel said an hour later. Cassian was lying between Az’s legs, pretending to read a book on the Napoleonic Wars.

“They grew on me,” Cassian shrugged, setting the book down and leaning back into Az. Azriel started carding his hands through Cassian’s hair, and if  _ that  _ didn’t cause him to  _ melt, _ Cassian didn’t know what would.

“Hey,” Cassian said a few minutes later, putty in Az’s hands.

Az hummed, confirmation he was listening.

“What are we gonna do about Lucien?”

“What do you want to do about him?” Az asked, moving his hand to massage a knot out of Cassian’s neck.

“I don’t—a little to the left—I don’t know. Rhys isn’t usually wrong about these kinds of things.”

Az let out an amused hum, moving a little to the left. “The project ends a month from now. If he still seems interested then, and you want to ask him to do…  _ whatever…  _ then we can ask him.”

“You’re not being self sacrificing right now, right?” Cassian asked a moment later, eyes half lidded and body limp against his partner’s. “You want this too?”

Az hummed in a way Cassian had learned years ago meant ‘yes, you are correct, and I find you endearing for asking at all’. “Yes, my love,” Az murmured in Cassian’s hair. “I want this too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me writing my other lucien/az/cass fic: I need to make sure all of the prose is eloquent and perfect. The themes must be heart wrenching and the motifs must be relevant.  
> Me writing this: they talk about those little pickles on coochie-boards and PINE.  
> anyways this chapter is stupid and I wrote it at 2am. hope you enjoyed lmao.


	3. Chapter 3

Lucien saw Azriel and Cassian a bit less in the week after they received their rough draft feedback. He had to skip class on Monday—yearly appointment with his oncologist (he was still in remission—yay!). Alis had an emergency on Wednesday and needed someone to babysit the boys, so he skipped class on Wednesday, too. And then there was the whole roommate thing. Point is, the next time he saw the pair was walking into class after lunch on Friday, cradling his venti coffee like a lifeline.

“You feeling alright, bud?” Cassian asked when he saw him.

“Uh…” Lucien gestured to… nothing. “No…” He finally decided, trailing off.

“Have you eaten today?” Azriel asked, rifling through his bag.

“A couple of recruiters had a table out… there,” Lucien gestured vaguely outside, “So I had a Reese's peanut butter cup and a sugar free lollipop.”

“Nutritious,” Cassian said with a grin.

Azriel offered Lucien a protein bar. Lucien took it with a thankful nod. It tasted like cardboard. Lucien didn’t mind.

“Uh…” Lucien said through a mouthful, “I think the professor is about to start. I should go find a seat. Thanks for the…” Lucien lifted the wrapper.

“Why don’t you sit next to us today?” Azriel asked calmly.

“We’ll cover you if you fall asleep during lecture,” Cassian agreed, grinning.

_ This is a bad idea.  _ Lucien didn’t really know  _ why, _ it just  _ felt _ bad. It felt wrong, like he was abusing their kindness and—and they were his group members, and the professor was looking at them standing around like idiots, waiting for them to sit down so he could start class.

Lucien sat down.

The caffeine hit him about fifteen minutes into the fifty minute lecture. His notes weren’t great, not after he had missed the Monday and Wednesday lectures that this one was built off of, but they were workable. They were fine.

And then class was over.

“How are you feeling?” Azriel asked.

“Jittery,” Lucien responded dryly. “And hungry.”  _ Hangry, more like. Ugh, he sounded like Alis. _

“Let’s grab lunch,” Cassian offered.

There was a burrito place near Cassian and Azriel’s place.

Luicen was a ball of nerves by the time they sat down. Logically, he knew he had nothing to be nervous about. It was the coffee which made his heart rate go up and his leg shake. He knew they had no clue how absolutely head over heels he was for them both, and he was not going to be  _ that _ person that tried to weasel his way into a successful relationship. But Azriel was giving him weird looks, and did that mean he knew? Did they bring him here because they knew and were going to set boundaries (which would be completely within their right and a  _ normal thing to do _ ). Lucien shut up and started eating his burrito before he could say something stupid.

“When’s the last time you slept?” Cassian asked a moment later, mouth full of burrito.

“Uh…” Lucien stalled, thinking. “Wednesday night.”

_ “Fuck _ , man,” Cassian said, wiping guacamole off the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.  _ Gross, _ Lucien thought before he could stop himself.

“We can walk you back to your dorm,” Azriel offered, “You should sleep.”

“Nah,” Lucien waved them off, “It's fine. I can… walk myself back.”

To be fair, he probably would have lied more smoothly if he had gotten some sleep. But he hadn’t, and thus, the pair just leveled him with a look. And  _ fuck,  _ were they hot. This was getting ridiculous.

“I—” Lucien sighed, dropping the act. “My roommate’s had a girl over the past couple days. It’s been… hard to sleep.”

His fault for picking ‘random roommate’ in his Sophomore year.  _ Ugh _ .

He felt Cassian kick him under the table.

“Idiot,” he said. “Come sleep at our place.”

And  _ no. _ That was  _ dangerous territory _ .

“I—really, it’s fine,” he sputtered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Azriel said, sincere and smiling slightly. “We’re not asking you to move in. Just come over and take a nap.”

“I couldn’t—”

“You can, and you will,” Cassian decided. “Now finish your burrito so we can go.”

“I—” Lucien was terrible at saying no to these men. “Fine.”

Cassian’s smile was so wide, and Azriel’s so subtle but humored, that Lucien almost didn’t regret saying yes.

* * *

They offered him the couch as they walked back to the house (thank  _ fuck _ ), but upon arrival, it became very clear that no one would be able to get any sleep on the couch at the moment. Amren, who, until this moment, Lucien had never met (she was a night owl, according to Cassian), was engaged in a very heated and very  _ loud  _ argument with another person Lucien had never met. They were both shouting in a language Lucien didn’t recognize. Without a word, Azriel veered them up the stairs, past  _ whatever  _ was going on in the living room. He heard Cassian and Azriel sigh in relief the moment the door closed behind them.

“That was Varian,” Azriel explained. “The two of them are a… passionate couple.”

Lucien nodded, and he was much too tired for this.

“Really,” he tried, smiling, “This was a bad idea. I’ll just go back to my room—kick my roommate out, it’ll be fine.”

Cassian shot him a look.  _ Okay, fine, he probably wouldn’t have done that. _

Lucien didn’t remember much from high school. A few fights with friends, a few fights with his brothers, and his father. The crush he had on his freshman english teacher. His first kiss. His first drink. Parts of the unit circle—for some reason. But a nugget of wisdom from his sophomore biology class bubbled to the surface then, oddly relevant. His teacher had seen a classroom full of overworked and exhausted students, and had told them “sleep deprivation makes you just as stupid as being drunk does. Get some fucking sleep.” He remembered it, in part, because he had sworn, and in high school, it was cool when teachers swore.

“I—” Lucien stuttered, feeling very sleep deprived, and very stupid. “This is a bad idea. I— _ really _ , I should go.”

“Why?” Cassian said at Lucien’s laughable stuttering. His eyes were too keen in the darkness of their room. How much did he know?

“I—” Lucien needed to get  _ out _ , because he was about to say something incredibly stupid and—

“Stop teasing him,” Azriel murmured under his breath, leaning against the desk in the room.

“I’m not,” Cassian defended, still grinning.

Maybe if Lucien pretended like he  _ hadn’t _ just heard the two men talk about him  _ right in front of him _ , this would all go away, and he could go back to being alone, pining from a  _ distance. _

Azriel’s soft smile was disarming. “Take our bed,” he said, and Lucien couldn’t say no. “We’ll be downstairs.”

Lucien didn’t think about how the bed smelled of them both. He didn’t think about how the bed was made when he crawled in. He  _ definitely  _ didn’t think about what they  _ did _ in this bed. No, Lucien just went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yes I did add one more chapter. I just needed to post this one so I could move onto the next one, and with classes starting soon, Idk when I'll be able to post next. anyways, happy new years!
> 
> Also, I've decided that female privilege is being able to avoid the marines when they set up a table at your school.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, someone on tumblr asked for me to finish this silly fic, and we still have one more ch (either an E rated chapter + epilogue or just an epilogue depending on how I feel about posting an E fic on an account where some of my friends can see it lmao).  
> anyways the point is we got one more chapter out! Enjoy!

Lucien woke up hours later to the sounds of distant chaos. It was dark out, and an old alarm clock on the nightstand next to the bed read 1:13. Nighttime, then. He had slept for _ 9 hours _ . He stumbled down the stairs more than he walked down them. A lack of depth perception plus a nine-hour nap in a relatively unfamiliar place plus sounds of…  _ something  _ downstairs was not a good combination. 

“No— _ NO! _ ” Cassian was yelling, standing in front of a flatscreen with a controller in hand. Azriel and Rhys were sitting on the couch behind him, staring at each other dryly. None of them seemed to immediately notice Lucien’s entrance into the back of the room, but a couple of seconds later, Azriel turned and gave Lucien an odd look.

Lucien staunchly ignored it, smiling placidly and taking the seat Azriel gestured to.

“Sorry if we woke you,” Azriel said a moment later.

“You didn’t,” Lucien responded, lying through his teeth. Azriel seemed to see through it if the dry look he offered was any indication.

Feyre walked out from the kitchen a moment later, a bottle of wine in hand. Her eyes widened when she noticed Lucien, and she quickly turned to Rhys, who was scrolling through his phone.

“Babe,” she said, drooping her shoulders, “I am  _ so _ tired. I think I should head up to bed.”

Lucien watched as Rhys looked at her for a few minutes, some… indistinguishable  _ look _ in his eyes. A moment later, he huffed and rose to his feet with half a groan.

“Yeah, I think I’ll join you. I’m  _ pooped _ .”

It was an extremely unconvincing performance.

Cassian still hadn’t seemed to notice that Lucien was even  _ there _ . Azriel was watching Feyre and Rhys very carefully. Lucien was doing much the same.

Lucien tried to catch Feyre’s eyes. He tried to silently  _ beg  _ her to please just stay down here for a few more minutes until Lucien could find a way to excuse himself and go back to his dorm—to no avail. The pair left soon after, leaving Lucien alone with Cassian and Azriel in their living room at 1:17 AM.

Cassian seemed to become reacquainted with his surroundings a moment later. He registered Lucien’s existence first, and Rhys’s lack of existence second. He gave Azriel a look Lucien did  _ not  _ want to decipher and turned back to Lucien with a toothy smile.

“Hungry?” Cassian asked.

He was.

“Um. Yeah, a little.”

“Cool. Az, go make him something to eat.”

Azriel’s look was withering. But he stood and disappeared into the kitchen without any protest.

Cassian gestured to the TV. “You played before?”

Lucien hadn’t.

“Uh. No. What is it?”

“It’s a piece of shit, is what it is.” Cassian dove into the intricacies of whatever first-person shooter Lucien was looking at, while Lucien pretended to understand him. Faintly, Lucien felt the phone in his back pocket buzz.

Cassian continued to explain why ‘the HUD display is  _ dogshit _ ’ whatever that meant, and Lucien continued to nod along. 

Lucien had this…  _ issue. _ Maybe it stemmed from being the ‘gifted kid’ growing up, or maybe it stemmed from all the doctors he was forced to interact with when he was younger, or maybe it was from a host of other things. Either way, now, at twenty years old, Lucien  _ really liked _ when people knew what they were talking about. He liked it even more if they were passionate about it. Even if he had no  _ idea _ what the person was talking about, which he usually didn’t—the  _ confidence _ involved in  _ knowing your shit _ was incredibly and frustratingly attractive to Lucien. And while Cassian explained the necessity of moving left to right instead of forward and backward when engaging with a sniper target in this game, Lucien realized that this— _ crush _ —was never going away. And Azriel too! With his knowing looks and sharp eyes— _ Lucien was going to die. _

Azriel set a piece of microwaved lasagna down on the end table a few moments later, snapping Lucien out of whatever…  _ revelation _ his brain was forcing him to suffer though. Lucien smiled gratefully, digging into it and—hadn’t he gotten a text?

He had. An unknown number.  _ At one in the morning? _

He opened his phone as he took another bite.

**[unknown number] 1:19 AM**

Please I am literally begging you to have sex with them

Lucien choked on his lasagna. Hot marinara sauce sputtered out of his nose and— _ hot, that was hot. Fuck, it’s burning. _

Lucien was blowing marinara sauce into a napkin a minute later, sputtering excuses about getting something caught in his throat when his phone buzzed again.

**[unknown number] 1:26 AM**

This is Feyre btw

Considering the circumstances, Lucien thought his response quite eloquent.

**Lucien 1:27 AM**

?!?!?!?!?!?

What the fuck?!?!??!?

I-

Feyre responded a few moments later.

**Feyre 1:27 AM**

lmao

No really. They talk about you more than I think they realize. They want to get with you. I promise.

“Who are you talking to?” Cassian asked, amused from where he sat.

The phone was carefully angled away from both of the men as Lucien said, “A friend,” with a plastered smile.

**Lucien 1:29 AM**

Okay. Don’t make fun of me here. Promise you won’t make fun of me.

But like-

They just want sex, right?

It's not that that’s all I want. Because like—well I’m not saying I want more but /theoretically/ if I did and they don’t like I’d like to know that ahead of time because—I’m gonna stop typing. Az is staring at me.

**Feyre 1:30 AM**

I’m definitely making fun of you (it’s Rhys now btw)

No, they're incredibly interested in you. I think Azriel added you to his infamous 10-year plan last week. They’re all yours, buddy.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Was it hot in here?

_ It was definitely—someone definitely turned the heat up. _

He—he shouldn’t do anything with this information. They still had a few weeks until they turned in their final, and if Feyre’s—intel? _ —wasn’t _ accurate and he  _ did _ say something, whatever tenuous but functional relationship they had formed was going to crumble and shatter and Lucien was going to fail this stupid class.

But.

_ But—  _

Cassian snatched the phone from Lucien’s hand.

“Hey!” Lucien shouted in protest and  _ shit _ .

Cassian was laughing, but he hadn’t looked at it yet. Lucien had a few precious seconds to get his phone back, and he wasn’t pulling any stops.

“Cassian,” he  _ pleaded. _ “Cassian, please give it back.”

“No fucking way,” Cassian said, laughing. “You were blushing like a fucking  _ virgin _ , I  _ gotta _ know who’s texting you.”

“You really don’t want to know,” Lucien warned. “Cassian. Cassian. Give it back.”

He looked to where Azriel was sitting. The man looked like he wanted to say something, but stayed silent, sinking into the couch and staring at his own plate of lasagna like it had suddenly turned into a plate of diamonds and he had to examine it for imperfections.

Cassian paused. There was a  _ deadly  _ fucking grin on his lips, and Lucien was going to  _ die _ . “What’ll you give me?” he asked quietly. Not—not quietly enough to be…  _ explicit  _ in its intentions. But not very fucking innocent either.

Lucien’s face was stoic as he said “literally fucking anything.”

There was a staring contest then. Lucien felt Cassian calculate his odds. True military-fucking-strategist to be.

And then he was grinning again. Slower—it built on his face. And fuck,  _ fuck— _

“Cassian.  _ Cassian _ ,” Lucien tried one more time, a final plea to a cruel and evil and ridiculously attractive man and fuckfuckfuck—

Cassian’s grin was apologetic.

“No deal.”

He looked at the phone.

He imagined this is what it felt like when the doctors told his parents he had cancer. No—no that was too dramatic, even for him. But this… tension. Tension as Lucien fell back in his seat, watching Cassian read the  _ worst and most complicated fucking text exchange of his life _ .

And then, very slowly, Cassian stood up, phone still in hand. Lucien watched him, and  _ holy shit was Cassian going to kill him? _ Lucien would embrace it, at this point.

He stood there, tense, brows furrowed, for an eternity of three seconds. And then, like a fucking  _ leopard  _ or something, he sprung into action, roaring up the stairs, calling for Rhys and Feyre, threatening to do—frankly  _ awful _ things to them and their loved ones.

And then a door slammed open, and then closed, and then there was muffled shouting, and then. And then Lucien and Azriel were alone in the living room. Azriel was chewing on a piece of lasagna, though he had set the plate to the side. And they were staring at each other in this  _ awful _ silence for like—way too fucking long—and  _ fuck— _

He moved before he realized why he was moving. His phone was on the floor, tossed to the side by Cassian in the  _ attack _ and it was still on and unlocked—somehow. And Azriel—now  _ Azriel, the reasonable one, _ was lunging for it, and  _ fuck _ would they allow him to maintain a fucking  _ shred  _ of his rapidly crumbling dignity?

No, they wouldn’t. They were fighting like cats for the damn thing—near wrestling for it, and  _ could this night get any more fucking confusing? _

Apparently, it could, as Cassian  _ cleared his throat _ from the top of the stairs, pausing both Lucien and Azriel in their  _ incredibly precarious _ position, and declared,  _ much louder than he should’ve: _

“We should have sex! And then like… go on a date tomorrow.”

He was met with silence. Awful,  _ awful  _ silence. Lucien’s left leg and half his torso was pinned under Azriel, and while Lucien had been fighting for his  _ life, _ Azriel didn’t even seem to be breathing heavily.

Lucien sure as shit wasn’t going to speak first.

When Azriel finally spoke, his voice was much too level. He was still  _ on top of Lucien. _

“I thought we were waiting until after the semester ended,” he said, and Cassian jogged down the stairs grinning with a shrug that  _ did not  _ match  _ Lucien’s  _ current mood.

“I don’t want to wait,” Cassian said. He was looking at Lucien like he was a  _ meal _ , and Lucien had to look away, or this position between him and Azriel was going to get even more precarious. Azriel, who was  _ still not moving _ . “Neither does he.”

And then Azriel was looking at him too, and  _ by the gods, he was fucked. _

Lucien thumped back on the floor, closing his eyes in defeat. Azriel was still on top of him. He heard Cassian’s footsteps as he approached.

They said  _ nothing. _

_ Fuck them. _

_ Not like that. _

“I hate you both,” he said finally, eyes still closed. He felt their stares burn holes into his skin. He felt the tension in the room focus all the energy on this very dangerous point of reality.

“Az hates me too,” Cassian offered, his voice coming from  _ a few fucking feet above Lucien. _ “We still fuck.”

“I—” Lucien cut off whatever shitty explanation he would have sputtered out, and elected to groan in general anguish and his head against the carpet again. And one more time, for good measure.

“You don’t have to,” Az offered, pulling back slightly. “But you want to. And we want to.”

_ Traitorous bastard. You were supposed to be on the side of reasonable people. _

And  _ oh god. _ He was gonna do this. He was gonna have sex with them. What was he going to do, say  _ no? _ Of course not—this is what he wanted for  _ months _ . Still, the pair of them may be his mortal enemies—the tricky awful bastards they were.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes. Azriel was kneeling beside him, no longer on  _ top  _ of him, and Cassian was crouching over him. There was a serious look on Azriel’s face. Careful and calculating. Cassian was grinning like the _ son of a bitch piece-of-shit  _ nemesis of Lucien’s he was.

One more deep breath.

He closed his eyes again.

“Yeah. Fine. Whatever.”

And then Cassian was laughing and pulling him from the floor, and Azriel was swatting Cassian’s hand away when the man  _ wrenched _ Lucien to the stairs and they were all half jogging now, in a weird awful  _ exhilarating _ race to get into their room and—uh. Have sex?

Feyre and Rhys were gonna kill them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao these idiots. Feyre the Nosy coming in and fixing everything once again. Queen shit, really.  
> also I said fuck so fucking much in this omg.  
> anyways I hope you enjoyed these idiots!

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this all at like 1am last night, and I fully blame @simping4bookboisngrls


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